These may just look like muffins to you. But there is almost more to every photo that what the eye can see. There is always a story.
I could have just posted this on Instagram with a caption like, “Made muffins for the kids.”
But that wouldn’t have been the whole truth.
I woke up with so much pain in my heart. Pain over what has been lost and pain over all of the collateral damage. I’m having a bit of an identity crisis if you must know.
When I lost my son, my world shifted on its axis. Everything has been touched by grief and loss. My personality has been altered, the way I function in life has changed, my strengths and abilities have been impacted dramatically, the way I process life is no longer the same. The things I used to pride myself on doing so well, are mediocre at best under my self-judgemental eye.
I’m trying to get to know myself. I working hard to have grace for myself and loosen the expectations I carry. Trying to discover something called self-compassion. Let me be real, I would never be this hard on anyone else. Never.
It’s very easy to feel like I’m failing. The highly driven, perfectionist in me knows a different way, but the battered and bruised woman that I am is walking with a limp.
So this morning, I sat in bed in the dark not knowing how to move. I scrolled through Pinterest and saw a friend had posted a recipe for Banana Oatmeal Breakfast Muffins. I pinned it too. I texted that same friend an SOS like I have done many times before. She told me to get up and get out in some sunshine. She’s allowed because she’s that kind of friend.
So I got up. And instead of just looking at a pinned photo, I made those muffins for my kids mostly to remind myself that I am still a good mom.
And then I took myself outside with a cup of coffee to sit in the sun and look at some green to remind myself that I am worth it and to give myself what is easier for me to give to others. Grace.
PS. the kids love the muffins, you can find them HERE.